


The Colour You Had

by actanonverba7



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Colors, Daddy Kink, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Good Slytherins, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Smut, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch Locker Rooms, Praise Kink, Quidditch, Rope Bondage, Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:26:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29815290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actanonverba7/pseuds/actanonverba7
Summary: There were rumors. Gryffindor’s Golden Girl was being passed around each Quidditch team like a quaffle. She started with Gryffindor first—obviously. Then came Hufflepuff, followed by Ravenclaw. Was she saving the best for last? That’s surely what the boys on the team thought.That isn’t what Draco Malfoy thought. No. She wasn’t a quaffle—if she was someone would have caught her by now. Was it a coincidence that the snitch is gold?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 13
Kudos: 235





	The Colour You Had

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to my incredible beta miss @tomridswhorcrux! I couldn't have done this without her.

There were rumors. Gryffindor’s Golden Girl was being passed around each Quidditch team like a quaffle. She started with Gryffindor first—obviously. Then came Hufflepuff, followed by Ravenclaw. Was she saving the best for last? That’s surely what the boys on the team thought. 

That isn’t what Draco Malfoy thought. No. She wasn’t a quaffle—if she was someone would have caught her by now. Was it a coincidence that the snitch is gold?

______________________________________________________________________________

While Blaise and Theo placed bets on the order in which they would get to take the Golden Girl out for a spin, Draco watched her from across the Great Hall. Ever since they returned for their 8th year something was different about Hermione Granger. Something was off. No—it wasn’t the fact that she was sleeping around. She was in pain. Draco could tell.

There was a noticeable dullness in the aura that surrounded Hermione. Everyone had always said she was golden. Some, aka Draco Malfoy, would say she was a kaleidoscope—reflecting every color and contorting them until you saw nothing but fractals. But not anymore. She wasn’t grey. The life wasn’t completely drained from her soul. It was something much worse. Color didn’t surround her at all anymore. 

______________________________________________________________________________

Theo won the bet. She approached him first. Blaise came next. That left only Draco. Goyle hadn’t returned for their final year after losing his counterpart. So, Draco waited and he waited and he waited. The longer he waited for her to conquer him last the more he began to observe. 

It wasn’t until mid October that Hermione approached him. He had been enjoying the warm day under a tree when she walked up to him. He nearly choked on his apple at the sight of her. She was wearing his Quidditch jersey. Was that actually his? He didn’t know. He didn’t care. Merlin, she looked hot. She was waiting for him to speak. 

“Granger?” is all he could muster. 

“Malfoy.”

“Have a thing for seekers?”

“It depends.”

“May I ask what it depends on?”

“If he has broom thighs or not.”

Now Draco was in fact choking on his apple. Once he finally composed himself he rose and leaned against the tree—careful not to tower over her. He grew an extra 3 inches over the summer, Granger standing at a whopping 5’3 did nothing to help his attraction to her. He had always liked short girls. But Granger—he was over a head taller than her. And he loved it. 

“Well, Granger, why don’t we head to the locker room and you can find out for yourself?” The smirk on Draco’s face grew as she returned it with equal deviousness. 

She gestured for him to lead the way and so they began their hike down towards the Quidditch Pitch. The Quidditch locker room was a fantasy he never imagined coming true. But there she was. In his jersey. In his locker room. Waiting for him. 

It was the middle of the day so he knew no one would come into the locker room and if anyone came looking for them this is the last place they would check. Without missing a beat Draco grabbed Hermione and pinned her against the wall as he began to kiss her. There was nothing soft about this kiss. Nothing gentle. It was rough. Filled with need—with want. 

As he moved from her lips to her neck he grabbed her hands to pin above her head. With every nip and lick Hermione moaned louder and louder. Theo and Blaise hadn’t mentioned she was so… vocal. Draco didn’t waste any time. He began to take his shirt off—Hermione gasped when she saw him. He was lean but not in the lanky way. He was pure lean muscle. Draco grew harder watching the want in her eyes grow. 

Quickly, he pulled his jersey off of her and groaned. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. They had kicked off their shoes long ago and now the Hermione Granger was standing naked in front of him. He pulled one nipple into his mouth—sucking hard. She gasped. He began kneading the breast in his opposite hand as he worshiped her body—clinging to every gasp, every moan, every sound that her throat evoked. He was going to make her want him as badly as he wanted her. 

Goosebumps formed on her skin as Draco kissed down her sternum until he was on his knees. He slung her left leg over his shoulder and looked up at her, hoping she didn’t say no.

“Fuck. Draco. Draco please.” 

He took his cue and groaned when he felt how wet she was. First, he took her clit between her teeth and sucked hard. Maybe even a little too hard. But from the sound that echoed the walls he knew it had been just enough. 

_Look at me.  
Look at me.  
Look at me._

She finally glanced down at him to find he was already watching her. It burned a hole through her core. The moment their eyes locked flames burst around them. The heat emitting from their bodies was endless. They stayed like that as Draco continued to lick and suck at just the right moment. Once he reached the ‘M’ in Malfoy after completing all five letters in Draco—Hermione cried out.

“Draaaaaaaacccccooooooo,” Hermione screamed as if it were the only word in her vocabulary and she was desperate to speak. 

After Hermione rode out her euphoria, Draco rose from his knees and whipped Hermione around. Slamming her against the locker doors. The ice cold of the metal made her nipples tighten. Draco pushed her hair to one shoulder and learned into her ear so his hot breath would surround the words that followed, “Do you want this?

“Mmmhmmmmm.”

“Words, Hermione. Tell me. Tell me how badly you want this.”

“Please, Draco. I can feel how hard you are—how big your cock is. I need it, I need you.”

“Good girl.”

Draco undid his belt and his trouser buttons and freed his throbbing cock. Ready to sink inside of her he commanded, “Spread your legs.” 

She obeyed and moved her legs apart and just moments later Draco slammed inside of her. Draco hissed as Hermione sucked in a breath of air. She had experienced big before, but this, no man that came after him would ever compare. 

Draco wrapped one arm around her and began tweaking her nipple as he held onto her hip with his free hand- setting his fast pace. No matter how fast his thrusts became, they were never sloppy, each time he hit exactly what he knew would drive her over the edge. 

Knowing he was nearing his climax, Draco moved his hand down and onto her clit. Hermione began panting and bucking against Draco trying to bring herself over the edge. Draco stilled her hips and picked up his pace, matching the stroke of his fingers, in four more thrusts Hermione threw her head back as she came undone. Feeling Hermione’s cunt clench around his cock sent him over the edge moaning, “Fuck. Hermione. Ahh. Fuck.” 

After he slowly pulled out and buttoned his trousers, Hermione threw the Slytherin jersey over her head. She quickly cast a transfiguration charm and her Gryffindor robes appeared. 

“Clever,” Draco laughed as he guided his belt through the loops and watched her walk out the door.

______________________________________________________________________________

If anyone asked, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger would vehemently deny that they had been doing anything other than having casual sex. 

Over the past month the pair began spending everyday together. A convenient shag and a person to do homework with later—the best excuse they could come up with. One evening after Draco and Hermione shagged in their favorite spot—he began teaching her how to fly. Hermione was the worst flier Draco had witnessed in ages. But it was fun. Laughing with her was fun. 

As the two laid in the middle of the pitch looking at the sky Draco rolled onto his side using his elbow as a headrest and asked her the question that had been plaguing him for days.

“Home—Is it a where or a with whom?” 

“Neither.”

He rolled back and began to look at the early evening skies waiting for her to elaborate. She didn’t. He knew that her parents wouldn’t have their memories back for at least another year and that she wasn’t able to see them in the meantime. The healer said it would muck up their progress. What surprised him the most was that home wasn’t with Ron or with Harry. 

It was Hermione’s turn to roll onto her side, prop her head on her arm and evoke deep thought.

With a deep inhale Hermione proclaimed, “I’m tired of being the Golden Girl.”

“If you don’t want to be golden, what do you want to be?”

“Everything.”  
______________________________________________________________________________

She was the deep green of an emerald. 

After a few hours of convincing Hermione finally agreed to go back to Malfoy Manor with Draco for Christmas holidays instead of staying at Hogwarts like she had planned. Lucius remained in Azkaban and Draco promised that Narcissa was excited to properly meet her. 

Hermione descended the steps of the grand foyer for the annual Christmas Eve Ball; an image that replayed over and over again in Draco’s mind. She wore a square necked emerald green off the shoulder dress made of silk. The dress hugged every curve on her body- the tight bodice melted into a curve hugging floor length dress with a slit up the left side. An opulent diamond and emerald necklace rested upon her décolleté, likely Narcissa’s touch. 

No one could keep their eyes off her all night. Every detail, down to her blown out hair, screamed elegance. As the live orchestra began to play Johann Strauss’ _Voices of Spring_ , Draco crossed the ballroom in search of Hermione. Once he reached her, he set down his champagne flute and stretched out his hand. 

“Fancy a ballroom dance with the lover you were meant to stay away from, Granger?”

As she grabs his outstretched hand and they begin to make their way towards the dancefloor Hermione replies, “Depends, who’s the lover I’m meant to stay away from?”

“I think that would be me, darling.”

The pair began to waltz and the rest of the crowded party became background noise. Draco and Hermione moved together as if they had been dance partners for life. 

Draco stared directly into her eyes and whispered, “Care for a ballroom massacre, my love?”

“Maybe. I didn’t know I was about to have a waltz with the devil.”

The ballroom shifted as _Voices of Spring_ turned into Eugen Doga’s _Waltz of Roses_ ; neither of them noticed. 

“You’ve been dancing with the devil for quite some time now.”

“Hmm, I think I can spare him another dance.”

“Why, that is so kind of you.”

“That doesn’t mean that I will spare your life.”

“Well, I would die a happy man.”

“How would you like to go?”

“Do you happen to have a dagger strapped to your thigh?”

“You’ll have to guess if it's on my right or my left.”

“Then that would be my choice, I could see the fire in your eyes as you sink the blade into my heart.”

“So poetic.”

“I can make my last words a poem too, if you would like?”

“I think I would prefer you to not have any last words.”

“Darling, everyone has last words.”

He dipped her as she spoke, “Perhaps a last kiss?”

“I think I could make that happen.”

Everyone in that ballroom began to stare at the pair of lovers; completely oblivious to the way they also waltzed with their words. They were mesmerizing. No one else was dancing but them, and they were completely unaware—completely transfixed in one another's eyes. 

The star-crossed lovers continued to move in tune with each other, unaware of the changing melodies, the music melted before it reached their eyes. It wasn’t until the beginning final song of the night that the couple started to resurface from their haze. Tchaikovsky’s iconic _Swan Lake_ crescendoed as Draco uttered his forbidden last words, “After you poison them, am I expected to take the throne?” 

“Depends, will I get to be your queen?”  
______________________________________________________________________________  


She was the royal purple of a blossoming columbine.

He found her curled up in a duvet under the gazebo—a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. A crisp, not ice cold, post new years morning graced England that year. A few of the winter blooming flowers peaked out from any remaining snow Engrossed in her novel, Hermione didn’t hear Draco enter the gazebo.

“Stay gold, Ponyboy,” were the most shocking words Hermione had heard Draco Malfoy speak.

“How-how do you know that line?”

“Well, I read it of course. How else would I know it?”

“I didn’t think of you as an _Outsiders_ , kind of guy.”

“Personally, I think the book is utter shite.”

“Pray tell, Malfoy.”

“What’s so great about being gold anyways?” he winked before turning on his heel and heading back inside to enjoy breakfast. 

______________________________________________________________________________

She was the rich blue of the ocean. 

January became February, which then became March; as the last of the winter snow melted from the ground their relationship continued to blossom. Draco and Hermione spent hours together in the library, portions classroom, Quidditch pitch, Gryffindor Tower, and Slytherin Dungeons. It was a shock to everyone that they hadn’t made it official yet. Both too fragile, they didn’t dare risk the heartache of rejection. 

Although neither of them will admit it, they were both broken after the war. With or without realizing it, they each took a paint brush and slowly began to paint color into the others cracked soul. 

Hermione quickly became friends with Theo, Pansy, and Blaise, although she had shagged two of them it wasn’t ever awkward. The unlikely group filled the halls with the light that was stolen from all of them. With Ginny moving in with Harry come graduation, Hermione opted to find a flat with Pansy in Wizarding London. 

“Pans! We’ve talked about this. You know it is a non negotiable that we have electricity and a muggle kitchen,” Hermione huffed.

“Granger- how the fuck are we meant to find a flat in _Wizarding London_ that has muggle appliances? Pray tell, Granger.”

“If you spent a quarter of the time you spend on trying to change my entire wardrobe on finding us a flat, we would have signed a lease yesterday.”

Hermione never would admit it to Pansy. No. She didn’t want to feed the fire. She loved the new clothes being transitioned into her wardrobe. Her new closet was filled with fine silks, leathers, and lace. Whenever she opted not to wear her robes she always found herself reaching for one of Pansy’s outfits. Draco did not seem to complain.

Luckily, Ginny was spending the weekend visiting Harry at Auror training camp. This meant that Draco and Hermione had the entire Gryffindor Tower dorm room to themselves. The couple had, what Pansy would say Americans called, a _24/7 fuck fest_. 

Draco always took charge. He liked it. Hermione liked it. It just worked. After Draco commanded Hermione to strip he led her to the loveseat and bent her over it.

“You know what to do,” Draco said sternly.

Hermione nodded and the moment Draco’s firm hand hit her arse she squeaked out, “One.”

He spanked her again.

“Two.”

Red handprints formed on each cheek.

“Three.”

She moaned.

“Four.”

She felt the slick between her thighs, and she knew he could tell. 

“Five.”

He grabbed her by the back of her hair, brought her upright and sang her praises that made her uncomfortable wetness grow.

“Good girl. You counted for me so well for me. Do you think you deserve a reward?” Draco always knew how to make her melt.

Nodding her head rapidly Hermione squeaked out a, “Yes, please”

Once Hermione was sprawled out on the bed, Draco casted a wandless _Incarcerous_ , binding her wrists together over her head and her legs to either post of her four-poster bed. 

As Draco removed his trousers and boxer shorts he could see Hermione’s glistening cunt. Most wouldn’t find this a reward, but he knew she loved when he made her wait.

He began to crawl on top of her, cock throbbing, “Do you want to make Daddy proud?”

“Anything. I’ll do anything.”

Hermione opened her mouth knowing what was coming next; as Draco shoved his cock into her mouth, they both moaned. Hermione so badly wanted to rub her thighs together. Anything. She was aching. But, she knew she needed to make Daddy feel good first. Draco quickly found his rhythm as he fucked his lover's face. 

“You make my cock feel so fucking good, Granger.”

She moaned.

“Gonna fuck your face everyday. Make me come so much.”

She moaned. 

“Want to watch you writhe against the rope. Watch your cunt—soaking wet for me. Want to watch you come.”

She moaned. 

Before Draco came, he slid out of her mouth and kissed down her sternum. He loved hearing her pleas. He loved knowing that by the time he slid his cock into her she’d be so needy he could get her to come at least three times. That is exactly what he did.

Draco fucked her at an excruciating pace. It was slow and drawn out. With each snap of his hips Hermione got closer and closer to her edge. Draco was determined to make her come at least once without going near her clit. The heat began to coil inside her until she crashed. Her back arched as she cried out. Draco didn’t stop—he didn’t slow down to let her recover. He fucked her through her first orgasm, right into the second. 

For her third, Draco quickly removed the ropes and flipped her onto her stomach. Knowing exactly what he wanted, Hermione got on her knees and pressed her breasts onto the bed—arse in the air. His pace quickened—it was animalistic. The smell of sex and the echos of their moans filled the room. Wrapping his hand around her body, he began to play with her overly sensitive clit. His free hand grabbed her curls to pull her head back. 

“Come around my cock one last time, Granger.”

“I can’t. I can’t.”

He picked up the speed in which he rubbed her clit.

“Daddy says come.”

Following the immediate orgasms they both experienced, Draco and Hermione laid on the bed in each other’s arms. He held her close to his chest and stroked her hair softly. Her legs were draped over his, perfectly nesteling herself in the curvature of his side. Beyond exhausted, Hermione moved her head slightly to look Draco in the eyes. He sensed her moment and looked right back into her amber eyes, filled with the words of love neither had the courage to say. 

“With whom.”

“Huh?” Draco responded. Clearly puzzled.

“You asked me once—if home was a where or a with whom.”

He nodded, gesturing for her to continue.

“Mine, it’s with whom.”

______________________________________________________________________________

She was the bright pink of a robin.

Hermione looks at Draco as if he painted the night sky—filled her with colors of day that she forgot to see. What she doesn’t know, is she filled him with colors he’s never seen.

Hogwarts graduation was days away. Everyone was excited—except Draco and Hermione. At Hogwarts they felt suspended in time. At Hogwarts they were together. Neither of them wanted to lose what they had, but neither wanted to remove the paint they had so carefully cemented within the deep cracks of themselves. 

Bitter-sweetness surrounded them as all the parents arrived at the castle on the day of graduation. Everyone had parents there—except Hermione. Even Theo’s shite father managed to show up for him. Hermione tried to remain grateful for the friends she had and the boy she... loved? Narcissa greeted her with a huge hug.

“Hermione, dear, it is so lovely to see you,” Narcissa said without losing an ounce of her pureblood composure.

“It’s lovely to see you too, Narcissa.”

“Draco tells me that you’re planning to open your open bookshop in diagon alley! Certainly not what everyone was expecting of you—but fitting.”

“The ministry can wait for me. This passion can’t.”

“Have you purchased any stock yet, dear?”

“I’ve gotten one of my orders in.”

“What is the lucky title to be filled first?”

“ _The Outsiders_ by S.E. Hinton.”

______________________________________________________________________________

She was everything.

Draco grabbed her and he kissed her. He poured his unspoken love and wishes of the future into her. They spent an eternity staring into one another’s eyes. Both terrified yet hopeful of the future. Hermione took a deep breath, preparing for all the cracks to split open again. 

“Even though you won’t live in the manor anymore, can I still visit and read in the gazebo?”

“It depends, I wouldn’t want blood all over my gazebo after our ballroom massacre.”

“I’ll make sure to read beforehand.”

__

_For the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy—in a match against Gryffindor, caught the snitch._

__

While all of their friends and their families were busy chatting, Draco grabbed Hermione’s wrist and dragged her towards the Quidditch Pitch.

Out of breath from being dragged throughout the grounds, Hermione panted, “Draco, where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise. Now keep your eyes closed. That’s an order, Hermione.”

When they reached the pitch and Draco told her to open her eyes, Hermione gasped. The entire sky was filled with colors for kilometers. The colors moved with one another contorting—a kaleidoscope. Blues and greens, and pinks and purples filled the sky. The longer she watched the more the display of colors took her breath away. Slightly confused, she turned to face Draco.

“You were always _everything_ to me.”


End file.
